A/N: Here I go again, starting another story when I have gazillion of them to finish... hehe! But I couldn't resist and help myself, bwaah! But, I hope you enjoy this! Gonna be another slow story of mine... and not definitely your average fic, I promise!
Disclaimer: I only own my car! Not DBZ or the possible hints to DMC series.
Pairings: G/CC, BV (don't let the beginning to fool ya!)
Genres: Mainly Action, Romance, Humour and Supernatural with hints of Fantasy and Drama
Full Summary: AU. Mysterious powers are at work and Bulma discovers her true self as a lone figure saves her from a Hellhound in the slums... too bad Bulma's gonna do everything to fight her destiny as soon as her new powers are under control! Vegeta and Goku are in for the challenge of their lives as ChiChi also proves to be more than meets the eye... Highschool/Demonslaying fic. GCC, BV.
Ice, Fire and Demon Slayers
by Kinoha
Prologue: As We Live Now
A shoulder bumped into him purposefully making him wince at the hard contact and he sighed deeply as he knew what that meant. In the very same moment he was grabbed by his shoulders and slammed against the gray lockers painfully, the back of his head hitting the thin metal. Five tall and muscular guys surrounded him with sneers upon their handsome faces, dressed in football team's jackets.
" Well well, isn't it Son Goku... late again?" one of them drawled lazily and Goku narrowed his black eyes on this particular jock. The hallway was empty as the bell had already rung and the deans had obviously decided to take a coffee break since they were not in sight. Goku frowned at the group, his black eyes narrowing considerably.
" Whatta hell do ya want, Yamcha?" he asked sourly, struggling in their grip for the show of it but they didn't even budge. The young man was already having a bad day then Yamcha the Asshole just had to pick on him for the umpteenth time.
" Don't you dare to talk to him like that, you filth!" Yamcha's friend yelled enraged and punched him straight to the cheek. Goku's head flew to the side, slamming to the locker. Blood began trickling from the corner of his mouth and his both cheeks were stinging in horrible pain. Another gush of blood suddenly came from his jostled nose. His face twisted in pain but he gave his tormentors no satisfaction by screaming or yelling in pain of it.
The group snorted as one and Yamcha brushed his black and shiny hair out of his eyes, his handsome face contorting in grinning contempt.
" Let's just leave the loser. He's beyond low on our scale and he should be grateful we even pay attention to him," he said callously, grabbing Goku's chin cruelly and forced the smaller boy look at him. Goku growled at the bigger boy defiantly, not saying anything.
" Not gonna talk, trash, huh?" With that Yamcha headbutted him in middle of his forehead and the minions holding him let him go. In extreme pain and his vision swimming with white and black dots, Goku crumbled on the floor, feeling sticky and warm substance trickling down his face. He already could feel the painful headache beginning to surface. Just another fucking great day...
Yamcha and his lackeys left with roar of laughter, their sneaker sounding on the linoleum floor of the empty hallway, heading to their lessons fifteen minutes late as usual. But they were all on the football team and their degrees at least B in every subject so the teachers and the school staff let it slide. They did their job at keeping up the school's football team's reputation so why not cut them some slack?
Goku sat slumped against the lockers, knowing some of them were now dented. His head smarted and his vision was hazy from the blow to the head. He tried to get up but wave of nausea and pain kept him down. Fucking great! Unlike the jocks' marks his own weren't that great and teachers were always on his case about them and the fact he was always late didn't help the matter.
" Oh fuck this smarts like hell..." he muttered, wiping his lips and nose on the back of his hand. He wore a simple dark red jacket and a white wife beater underneath and loose fitting black trousers with many pockets. On his feet he sported worn black sneakers which he always had on. His clothes had seen better days and were little shabby all over and Goku knew the white of his shirt was now brown-red from the drying blood.
Getting up and leaning to the row of lockers he staggered towards the way the nurses office was. And he was gonna miss the first hour again. But like he could help it: he'd rather not make a scene by appearing in the classroom bloody and beat up. This way there would be no questions asked and there would be no revenge if he were to spill who did it and why. He wasn't that ignorant.
Son Goku was by no means a tall guy: he stood at barely 5.6 feet and many girls in the school were few inches or much taller than he, mainly the cheerleaders with their model's heights and bodies. His hair was black and spiked into every direction, unruly at the best. His built was quite gangly and lean, the loose fitting clothes pretty much hiding his sinewy body and his face was quite handsome with deepest coal black eyes. It other circumstances he could have been popular with jock and preps, but Goku reflected that it didn't matter. He was from the north side of the city where people lived in slums, drugs and other narcotics were a huge problem and crime rates were the highest. Goku couldn't see the problem in that: he didn't do drugs, smoke or commit crimes, yet he was judged because of his living area. They didn't know him and the fact he had no friends at school didn't bother him. He had plenty of those around the city, thank you.
In all honesty he thanked God that he never turned out to be a jock blind with prejudice and his own importance, picking on other students just for the sake of it.
" Oh my God, Goku!" The nurse cried out as he wobbled inside her office, all bloody and bruises covering his face. He really was a regular customer at Mrs. Connely's nursing office. For a nurse she was every man's dream caretaker: she had wavy blond hair, deep brown eyes and the body to kill for in her white outfit. She may have looked like bar whore at your local pub but in reality she was very kind and caring person. At the age of 25 she had completed her degree in university, gotten married to a wonderful man and landed a job on her first try.
Goku had learnt this all during his visits on her office as she patched him up from beatings; besides they knew each other through Goku's grandfather Son Gohan. Many malign rumours said that she had taken the job because she loved younger male flesh and her husband couldn't get her done properly. Pretty much every guy in the school had tried getting into her pants, but her brisk way dealing with them definitely deflated any growing erections and lusts.
" Hi, Brin... fancy to see you..." Goku laughed weakly and sat on the chair as the blond bombshell flew to check his wounds.
" Yamcha and the goons again?" she asked softy, knowing the answer immediately as Goku gave a small, bitter laugh.
" Who else?"
Mrs. Brin Connely just muttered few curse words under her breath and began wiping the blood away from his face and preparing the disinfectant. She had tried to inform the principal of the football team's stars' doings but the balding, fat prick had just yelled at her that just because some rumours about her sleeping with students were flying around didn't mean she could vilify his outstanding students. She was a nurse meant to take care of students if something happened, not concern herself with school counselor's affairs. They had not discussed about the subject again to her utter displeasure.
Goku just chuckled good-naturedly. " You know, oww, I should thank'em 'cause I'm in the damned first name basis with on of the, outch, school's sexiest women!"
" Behave young man," she slapped his arm playfully while cleaning the gash on his forehead, smiling.
" Ooh, dominating and rough, you naughty woman!" he laughed huskily and Brin let out a giggle and felt few tremors of pleasure run through her spine caused by his sexy voice. Sometimes she just wondered how on Earth it was possible for him to be a single and loathed by girls when he was so attracting. She definitely loved her own husband and he was big and muscular man, working as a bouncer at a night club and he had same kind of rough allure as the sixteen year old boy in her chair being fixed after a beating had.
" Keeps my hubby happy, eh?" she smirked back. " Now take off your shirt. I need to see if any damage was done to your back and ribs. Oh, and before I forget: give your grandfather my greetings! Tell him I'll race for him sometimes if needed!" she grinned like a chesire cat.
Goku obliged without complaint and smirked at her. He knew he was good at hiding his pain and usually tended to underestimate his wounds and damage taken from beatings. He sighed. Another lesson missed; another teacher all the more mad at him.
" I'll tell 'im, Brin. I'll them 'im. Just patch me up, ok?"
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He left the nurse's office and joined the student body now milling in the hallways of the school. No one paid particular attention to him but the bruises on his face were noted by many. The clock on the wall showed 9: 47 and Goku frowned. Great. Ten minutes until next lesson and he had to get to his locker, get his books, avoid jocks and get to the class. He scoffed when he slammed his locker shut his books in his hands and glared at people looking at him with curiosity. It was not uncommon knowledge that he lived in the north area. Big deal. Many others lived there too, but they were punks and emos and no one dared to mess with them since knives were really close to their hands at all times. Just what the jocks didn't know was that he also had his trusted switchblade and he definitely knew how to use it but he had decided not to use it on idiots.
He navigated agilely through the throng and remained unspotted by the jocks who sat on their usual bench with giggling cheerleaders in their laps, snogging and being envied by other less fortunate students. More like less unfortunate students he smirked in his mind. He sure wouldn't want any of such whores in his lap. God knows where their mouths had been and what had been in them.
Slipping inside the class he sat at the very side closest to windows, the openings giving a scenery to the football field from the second floor. He absentmindedly leafed through his history book and could care less what had happened in the past. It was nearly ten and a group of jocks and preps walked inside with bragging giggles and Goku held back his snort.
A blue-haired, extremely beautiful girl was in middle of all attention, dressed in low-cut tight jeans with glitter and a minimal tank top you could find, exposing the top of her breasts and her toned midriff. Bulma Briefs was her name: the richest, most popular and superficial bitch on the face of the Earth and currently she held the 'hardest bitchslap' title of the school's girls. Many molesters had felt the power of Briefs' hand if they got too friendly with her without her consent. She giggled lightly at something her friend said, sounding so superficial Goku almost puked. He strained his hearing to listen to their conversation.
" Oh gosh Bulma, that's like so awesome! I can't believe Yamcha would do like that!" her brunette friend squealed and Bulma only chuckled in response.
" Yeah... too bad he can't have the same class with me! I miss my boyfriend so!" she sighed dramatically, flipping her hair.
" Oh Bulma-chan! You're so lucky girl!"
" I like just love your jeans!"
" Gosh I wish I like had your body..."
Goku listened to all this, feeling amused. He wondered if the blue bitch knew her so-called friends were her friends only because she had money and fame and could probably pull few string for them if needed. At the moment the teacher walked into the class. Graying old man, almost as old as history itself slammed his books on the table. He had obviously gone to get some coffee from the teacher's lounge. The roll call was done as usual.
He then started the lessons with dry voice that seemed to drone on and on and Goku found himself nodding partially off.
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Bulma was definitely bored out of her mind. She absently kept biting the end of her pen, her glossed lips forming a pout of boredom. Mr. Mori didn't tolerate even a whisper in his lessons and he had been known to fail a student just for sneezing in middle of his important preach on the ancient history of Egypt. She couldn't even pass notes to her friends a she had forgotten her notebook... Besides she was way too smart for this lessons anyways.
The blue-haired beauty began scanning the students in the class, trying to recognize nobodies and if she perhaps by some chance remembered their names connect them together. That mousy girl was Veronica... or was she Yukio? That nerdy guy with TV glasses... oh wait. No one seemed to know his real name and everybody called him 'TV-glasses'.
Wait, who on Earth is that? Bulma bit her lip in confusion as her azure eyes settled on the boy with incredibly spiky, black hair sitting on her row to the left on the last seat. His face was bruised and his forehead had a band aid in middle, slightly slanted. He obviously got into fights a lot. She'd have to ask Yamcha about that one: he was usually well-informed on almost anybody.
The boy turned his head and caught her looking. Instead of shying away from her superior and mighty cheerleader's gaze he answered it fully on. His black gaze was mischievously dark and he smirked at her audaciously. Bulma raised a delicate eyebrow in surprise and then had to cover her gasp as the wild-haired male gave her a finger. No one else noticed as they were so deep in stupor of utter boredom. Bulma stared furiously back at the insolent brat who was now ignoring her completely.
Asshole!
But she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity she got from the boy and she was sure she had never in her life even noted him before or talked to him. Her palms tingled weirdly and she scratched them lightly. Grr, my skin must be drying... where's my creamy hand lotion when I need it...
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The last bell rang signaling the end of yet another school day as the clock hit exactly 2:25 pm. Students filed out of the school, chatting and gossiping, happy to end the day and be free again. Goku marched out of the main entrance his back slung casually over his shoulder. Another day in the fuckhole was complete. God thank it was already Thursday. He barely could wait for the weekend. He hoped Vegeta had gotten that engine booster as he had bragged he would.
Quietly he sneaked past the parking lot and smirked as jocks were comparing their cars and showing them off to girls. He walked daily to school even if he owned a car. But there was noway he'd ever bring it to school. Yamcha and his loonies would destroy it faster than he could say eat shit and that beauty certainly wasn't worth of their braindead gazes. Goku heard that git Yamcha talking about his new ride and how he's going to take Bulma for it in the evening. Excitement and speed, he promised her, and he couldn't help but snort. That car had never even seen the meaning of speed and excitement.
Upping his gait to jogging and then to full running he practically flew towards his humble abode and living area. One of main reasons he was so fit was because he ran to school every single day.
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" Grandpa! I'm home! Where are you, old man?" he hollered as he stepped into an open garage. It was large and filled with mechanical equipment of all sort meant for fixing and tuning cars. Three most beautiful cars ever were at the back of the huge room and some incomplete frames where every where. Few old cars on the side were being fixed into better condition and the place smelt like oil and motor grease. Goku's fingers were itching to get to work on some of the vehicles.
" Grandpa?" he asked again. The old man would never leave his prized cars like this on the open so he must be nearby.
" Just righ' about here, boy," came a rough reply and an old man covered with smudges of oil and grease ambled from the side room of his little business. He greeted with a wave of a hand his grandson and then frowned. " Whatta hell happened to yer bloody face?"
" Yam-fucking-cha happened as always," he rolled his eyes irritably, touching his cheeks gently. " Don't worry, old man. Brin patched me up, as always. She sends her greetings and says she'd be happy to race again if needed."
Son Gohan scowled at his lanky teenage relative. " Ya really need to start fightin' back, sonny. You're not a tenth degree black belt for nuthin'... I taught ya all those martial arts and exorcisms, y'know, for the job, not that you could get your sorry ass kicked by lame bloody jocks on steroids!"
" Well, excuse me! I don't fancy being exposed at any way to be a damn demon hunter. I am just maintaining a cover, gramps! It's not like I don't get hurt in the battles already..." Goku retorted sharply with a roll of his eyes. Gohan gave a sigh.
" I know... I know... I'm just worried about ya there."
" Nah, it's okay... I even scare myself there, sometimes!"
" Get going ya git and then get your sorry ass down here to help me!" Son Gohan laughed and ushered the smaller male towards the door leading into their little apartment to change into his working clothes. Screw the homework! He had not done them since the first grade in junior high and wasn't about to start right now. Grabbing a bite, a sandwich and orange juice, he made his way to their small room which contained a closet, a bunk bed and a small night table. His walls were filled with posters of all kind and the floor was stacked with books about cars and mechanics and dirty clothes littered the place. Finding his overalls he quickly changed and went to tinker with the newest car order with his grandfather.
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Heavy metal blasting from the speakers, Goku hummed to the words as he worked under the car, giving some sharp tuning to the exhaust and catalysts. The other would never knew what hit them when his little trick on the car would be ready, he smirked in satisfaction and swiped sweat off his temple, smudging it with dirt. Gohan had gone to take care of some business and left Goku in charge of their 'shop'.
Suddenly someone turned the stereos off. " KAKAROTT! GET YOUR ASS FROM UNDER THOSE CARS RIGHT NOW!" An arrogant voice yelled sounding extremely pissed off. Goku pulled himself from under the car and scrambled to his feet, annoyed.
" Hey, Vegeta! No need to turn the blaster off!" he snorted and Vegeta jumped at his sudden appearance right behind him.
" Oh motherfucker! Don't do that!" he blew his top and grumbled something about bastard mechanics. The man was two years his senior, but soon only one year since Goku's birthday was coming up in few days, momentarily closing their age gap a bit. His hair stood like a flame and was just as black and spiky as his, but adding to his height few inches. Eyes were the same black as his too, though colder and more narrowed. A permanent scowl seemed to be embedded to his handsome features. Many people said the two looked alike but it was rarely known fact that they were actually brothers.
Their father had really abandoned them to their grandfather as babies. Vegeta was a result of a one night stand between Bardock and his high school crush Velega, the elegant matriarch of the Ouji family line, next in importance only to the Briefs in the world. Bardock had been married already as had been Velega and neither one wanted to shame their names and had abandoned Vegeta to Bardock's father Son Gohan. Both of his parents denied his very existence as Velega had been pregnant too long for an abort to be possible and safe for her health so she had carried him in secrecy. Son-Ouji Vegeta was his full name.
Goku had been born to a whore Bardock had managed to impregnate while once again cheating on his wife. The nameless whore had died upon giving birth to him, on very intent of blackmailing money from Bardock with the baby. Not wanting anything to do with the brat he had dropped him off at his father's doorstep in the slums. Son-Saiyajin Goku was his full name. Kakarott was a nickname that Vegeta had started calling him when they were kids and neither knew why or where it had come from. Vegeta was the only one whom he even tolerated calling him that.
Bardock had always despised the way his father lived: poorly and dealing illegal cars and races in the nightly city which were his greatest loves in the world, unknown to Bardock, right after his dear grandsons. He had left the home for boarding school to which he had earned a scholarship with straight As. He wasn't going to end up like his crazy sire and began studying law and graduated later with highest scores ever recorded. After getting out of college and finding a job in respected law firm changing his surname had been easy. Crawford Bardock had become his new name. He didn't want anyone ever finding out about his disgrace of a family in the slums. He had two exceptionally well succeeding sons Raditz and Turles, after all and a wife he tolerated for the most of the time.
Son Gohan hadn't spared the boys from these hard facts and Goku and Vegeta could care less about their real parents: Gohan would be the only family for them since their father had quite willingly got rid of them.
" Do what?" Goku asked, feigning innocence.
" You know, you asshole!" Vegeta rolled his eyes and decided to change the subject. " So how's the Firebird coming along, Kakarott?"
" The won't know what hit them as this beauty's gonna knock'em dead! I think you should check the engine once again and get your lazy ass to help me! She needs to be in condition for the weekend. You got the part you promised?" The younger boy patted the hood of the silver colored car with blue flames surrounding it all over affectionately.
" Sure... hey, what the heck happened to yer mug?!" flame-haired Ouji heir asked, pointing to his face, now noticing the band aid from under his oiled-covered face.
" The jockflock of motherfucking gays happened and Brin fixed everything like always," he answered curtly and Vegeta cracked his knuckles. " Some day I am gonna beat the shit outta those cock-sucking, whore-induced---" his impressive cursing faded into mumbling that promised extreme pain. Goku smiled in spite of himself. All the fighting and insulting they did, they really watched out for each other. Streets had taught them that you'd better have someone cover your back.
" I don't see how ya still keep going to that hellhole," Vegeta snarled, pulling on his overalls from the rack next to the door to their little flat.
" Just for the heck of it. And the cheerleaders' skirts are awesome," Goku leered and Vegeta laughed.
" Hmm... I might consider joining school again," he pondered aloud opening the hood of the car and with practiced eye quickly looked through everything.
" Ya know ya're still on the student list... ya've been away from school only about one and half year. It's still weird that they don't realize us to be brothers. We even fucking look the same and we're registered under the same damned surname!"
" Well, I never did say to the bastard of a school councilor that I quit... I just went on a prolonged Christmas break!"
Goku laughed at the remark, cleaning his tools with a rag. " Yeah sure... I think such an excuse as: 'I'm sorry I skipped school Mr. Principal but I was hunting a high demon lord Azkabal all over the globe and when I finally killed him I jus' kinda forgot to return to school!' is not gonna come through! But let's not talk about the damned fuckhole anymore, but let's turn things up!"
Vegeta roared in laughter at that: quite malicious sounding sound that chilled any demons to the bone and core of their rotting souls. His crazy laughter was almost legendary amongst them.
Goku walked over the stereos, quite used to Vegeta's chilling laughter, and soon heavy metal and rock was blasting thru the speakers, both boys signing to it quite loudly but shockingly in tune and worked their precious car into wonder condition for the weekend.
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A/N: All kind's of feedback welcome!
JA NE!